A Splash of Blood
by Cressida Isolde
Summary: Elissa Cousland still has nightmares about the Landsmeet. One-shot. Cousland/Alistair, although only incidentally.


I'm meant to be writing something else, but got this stuck in my head. This decision in the game is one I'm never quite comfortable with.

* * *

A splash of blood. A shriek. And then Elissa was gasping, eyes open in the darkness. Next to her, Alistair stirred. She pressed her fingers to her lips.

Again. _Again. _Every night for a month. Longer.

* * *

The argument was excruciating, long and circular and drawn-out, with the entire court watching.

"No," she said. "We can't execute him. That's not-"

She'd been going to say 'not what the good guys do', but realised how foolish it would have sounded.

"He betrayed us at Ostagar," said Alistair, simply. "He deserves to die."

Everything came back to Ostagar. Duncan, lying on his back, staring sightless at the sky. Had she seen that image? Or had that been another dream?

Beautiful, foolish Cailan. Who had delighted at the idea of waging war against evil itself, a war to be told of in songs and poems for years to come. None of the usual problems like inconvenient prisoners of war or spies or what to do with enemy civilians – just an out-and-out slaughter, blessed by the Maker himself.

Those black eyes, looking at her, devoid of emotion, unreadable.

Hundreds of people were looking at her, watching silently.

"B-but he could be useful," she said, though she knew she sounded weak. She had the sensation of her plans twisting away from her, everything that she thought had been set up in exactly the right way spiralling out of control."His first loyalty is to Ferelden," she continued. "He-"

"Please?" said Anora, her voice barely audible. Her eyes were wide and her face ashen."Please don't-"

Elissa had never really liked Anora, although Anora was only a year or two older. They hadn't seen each other much when they were younger, but on the couple of occasions they'd met, Elissa had come away with the impression that Anora was too serious, too focused, humourless.

"You're defending him?" Alistair asked incredulously. "After what he did? You were there, you know what happened." It seemed as if he had forgotten everyone else in the room. He turned towards her. "He killed Duncan. Our friend."

Elissa's eyes narrowed a fraction. Duncan may have been Alistair's friend, but in her experience, _friends_ didn't make offers of help to escape a private army that was in the process of slaughtering your family conditional on signing your life away to an archaic organisation which would one day kill you.

"This isn't about – revenge, Alistair," she said, trying to keep her voice low.

"You would betray me," he said. "You. Of all people, Elissa, you were the one that I thought I could trust."

"Look," she said, pressing a hand to her forehead. The crowd was beginning to murmur, now, the brief window of control that they had slipping away. "Let's just make him a Gray Warden like Riordan says. He'll have a chance to redeem himself."

"Have you forgotten what he _did_ to the Gray Wardens?" Alistair asked, incensed. The hostility in his tone almost made her flinch.

"Well, wouldn't that make it an even better punishment?" Elissa snapped back defensively. "Exile him to Orlais or something if you want to get creative."

There was a pause. "Elissa," he said. "I can't."

"He was loyal to your father," she said.

"If that's what you call loyalty," Alistair sneered. "And now his allies include the man who killed your entire family. Well, previous allies, now, I suppose."

She was silent.

"Elissa," he said again. He took a step towards her, lowering his voice. "Liss. If he joins the Wardens – I'll be leaving."

"What?" she asked. "But the Blight-"

"Liss." His blue eyes were burning into hers. "I can't do it. I can't stand by and see him get away with what he's done. If he walks out of this hall – then I'm gone. You won't see me again."

Her eyes flicked towards Loghain, then towards the door. "But – Alistair, I – you'd just leave? You'd leave – me?"

"This is not something I can compromise on," he said.

She swallowed, avoiding Anora's terrified gaze.

"You could do that?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"Yes," he said, almost as quiet. "But I'd miss you every day."

Was this what it had come down to? The fate of a man's life was in her hands, reduced to the need for a person, a relationship. She thought about his goofy jokes, his brilliant smiles, his shy touches on her skin.

"Do it," she said, and turned away.

* * *

The scream. The _scream._ The way Anora's legs folded under her as she dropped to the floor.

Loghain had faced the sword with a type of resigned honor, but Anora – Anora had crumpled, showing a heartbroken vulnerability that Elissa could never have imagined.

Elissa leaned her head back against the pillow and screwed her eyes shut. Next to her, Alistair stirred, mumbling something unintelligible. She reached out with a finger and touched his back gently. He made a happy noise and rolled towards her. She smiled into the darkness, but it was strained.

She'd made the wrong choice. The wrong decision. That wasn't how an execution should be decided. She'd let her feelings get in the way of what was good; what was right.

She thought about Anora, imprisoned up in her tower.

She wondered if Anora dreamed too.


End file.
